


shocked through the heart (and you're to blame)

by LittleEggBuddy



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-04-11 19:30:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19116244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleEggBuddy/pseuds/LittleEggBuddy
Summary: A series of one-shots based off prompts and requests I have seen/received. If you want me to continue any of these let me know!Currently playing: Jazz loves her brother. She will always love her brother. Unfortunately, it seems not everyone feels the same way...





	1. Walking a Fine Line

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt by danphanwritingprompts: When you walk the fine line of being both dead and alive, it shouldn’t be much of a shocker to find out that it renders you immortal to aging and natural death.

Danny really should be more concerned about current events. Finding out that he was basically a minor god really should have stung a bit more. He should feel shocked, angered, over-joyed, something. Instead he just felt numb. As Frostbite delivered the earth-shattering news after running some tests at the Far Frozen labs, Danny merely nodded his head to show he was listening, seemingly more focused on his sprained leg than his loss of mortality. His reaction however, was sharply contrasted by his friends.

“Dude this is… This is.. Well I don’t really know what this is but its big!” Tucker, ever the one to assert his opinion, frantically bolted upright off the icy bench he was sitting on, knocking his signature beret askew. Sam attempted to access the situation with a little more tact, gently laying a hand on her unusually quiet best friend’s shoulder.

“Danny I know this must be a huge shock.. B-But you can talk to us about it, we’re here for yo-”

“Naw it’s chill.”

“W-What?”

“Its chill Sam, I’m cool, not like there is anything I can do about it now. You seriously don’t have to coddle me, I’m fine.” He heaved himself off of the bench to prop himself against Tucker, still being overly conscientious of his injured leg. He didn’t even spare Sam a glance as he urged Tucker to start heading towards the door. Not one to be ignored, Sam darted past them to block the exit. 

“Danny listen, I know you like to handle stuff on your own but please let me help!” She once again tried to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, only this time to be forcefully shrugged off.

“Ugh! Sam drop it, you are starting to sound like Jazz, the only thing wrong with me currently is my busted up leg and I’d really like to get home so I can prop it and forget this entire thing ever happened. Ancients, you’re trying to start problems where there are none, let’s just go home.” 

He pushed past her, almost having to drag a lost-looking Tucker behind him as he headed in the direction of the parked Specter Speeder. For once not knowing what to say Sam followed quietly after them. She stared at the back of his head, contemplating what she said wrong and why he had to be so goddamn stubborn. They were his friends damn it! Would it kill him to let someone else help his sorry ass for once? Danny turned back to spare her a glance, some of the harshness in his eyes softening as he met her dejected ones. 

“Hey, thanks for trying to to help, but I really am fine. I just wanna go home and get some rest. We can address the whole immortality thing later, but its honestly not that big of a deal. We’ve certainly gotten worse news. So stop looking all concerned okay? I’m fine.” and with that he took her hand and pulled her forward so they were walking to the Specter Speeder in a line, as a team. (Like all was right in the world.) Sam would just have to believe he was fine, that’s all she really could do. He was fine… Right?

She decided not to acknowledge how the hand that was intertwined with hers was shaking and gripping on for dear life.


	2. Hell of a (Legal) Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a prompt by danphanwriting prompts: The existence of immortals–and powerful ones, to boot–is a legal nightmare

Chelsea Brawn finished her 5th cup of coffee and sighed heavily. Working as an unpaid intern for a supernatural registry organization was the pits. They work her for 30 hours a week, just shy of the mark that would make her a legitimate company employee and she doesn’t even get as little as a thank you. Still she needs her credit hours. Non-Assimilating Sentient Anomalies, or NASA as the younger generations had taken to calling themselves (in no way affiliated with the space freaks), had little options for education or full-time employment if they work willing to work their way up in the Supernatural world, all the old farts looked down on the little ones, especially mortals like herself. If she wanted to get a degree in Psychology and hopefully become a therapist for other anomalies, she had to just suck it up and keep working as best she could. She tightened up her braid, carefully avoiding her horns and swished her tail irritably. Still, she would like to be given better things to do then paperwork.

She hoped that they would one day let her interview and register some of the newbies the organization had managed to wrangle up. She knew that it was a little outside her jurisdiction as an unpaid intern but it would be such good practice for her (hopefully) future Psych career. 

“Exactly what I was thinking!” A cheery voice rang out from behind her. Chelsea startled and swung around, almost bowling the petite woman behind her over. 

“Barbarella! You scared the shi- I mean, you scared the living daylights outta me!” Chelsea exclaimed.

“No you didn’t mean that. I cannnnn read minds silly!” Barbarella leaned forward and cheerily bopped Chelsea on the noise, her pink eyes flaring suspiciously. “You can curse. We are big girls here after all!” A giggle like bell chimes flowed out of the telepath’s mouth at her own patronizing comment. 

Chelsea snorted and embarrassingly a curl of smoke wound its way out of her nostrils. 

“S’not professional.” 

“Hmmph, whatever. So you wanna interview the noobs? I can get you set up!” Barbarella wiggled her eyebrows at the concept. 

“Eavesdropper.”

“Hmm maybe but a helpful one. Listen, it a win-win situation. I wanna sack off at work and you wanna do registry duty. What do you say, wanna take my next noob?” Chelsea bit her lip. As much as she was opposed to helping someone slack off, she could feel her resolve waning. After all, Barbarella was really her only friend at International Anomaly Anonymous Registry and Support Center. (Again, gross. What was with stuffy government people and super long names?) The bubbly woman was the only other mortal near her age in this branch, having just graduated college a few years back. The two had hit it off well and Chelsea was afraid her by-the-book personality would drive the other woman off. 

She dragged her attention back to Barbarella, having made up her mind. The other girl shot her glance, and ran her hair (somewhat nervously? Huh?) Through her sleek white bob. 

“Well?”

“You know what? Fuck it. Yeah I’ll take over for you. Where do I need to be?” Chelsea felt a smile work its way onto her face. It felt good to be a bit rebellious sometimes. 

“Sweet! I knew I could count on you Chelsie! Okay, so they are bring the kid in at like 8:50, in Containment Block B. Don’t be late! Thanks Bestie! And with that Barbarella teleported away with a flash. 

“Containment Block? Who the hell is this person? Barbie? Ugh you Asshole! Oh. OH SHIT!” Chelsea glanced at the clock and realized she only had minutes to be ready for her interview in minutes. New grievances or no, she had agreed to do this and needed to uphold the requirements she had been sort of forced into. Barbarella was going to get an earful when she was finished. Jerk. 

She ran-walked all the way to Containment Block B, where a miffed looking security guard handed her the file on the detainee. Okay so… that was disheartening. They didn’t know much about him, except that he was probably male teenager, sentient, and was almost certainly a super powerful immortal… of some kind. Damn, they couldn’t even tell what this kid was? No wonder Barbie wanted to dump this kid on her. He seemed like a real dead-end. His file also said he was not necessarily violent but testy and very pissed about being detained for questioning. Great. 

She looked over the questions she would be required to ask him. Mostly normal stuff like age, species, sex but also more invasive things like any physical manifestations or powers. How the hell was she supposed to get this out of him in like 3 hours? Oh well. she did want hands on experience. 

Stalling wasn’t going to help her, so she signaled the guard to let her into the detainment center. She briefly regretted her choice of metallic gold eye-shadow and not covering her burn scars up with foundation. Weird, legal disaster child or not, she didn’t want to scare the kid. He might have been a Manifester rather than an Inheritor, which would make this hard on him. Upon actually seeing the kid however, she quickly diverted from that way of thinking.

Cold, toxic green locked onto hers and sharpened into a glare. His stark white hair, so different from Barbarella’s silvery bob, weightlessly ruffled in a non-existent breeze. His bright white aura flared and hissed, seemingly lapping against power-reducing cuffs. His lips, partially obscured by an over sized muzzle, pulled back into a snarl. A low growl emitted from the other wise small boy. 

Chelsea reeled back slightly, in terror. Yeah, never mind. she would cling to any scrap of intimidation her bold look might give her. She shivered as his glare darkened. She could feel the power rolling off of him in waves. Something about him made fear sink in and settle within her, anxiety threatening to bubble up over the surface. So, this is what had Barbarella so scared earlier. Frankly, now having seen the kid, Chelsea couldn’t say she blamed her. Still, she had a job to do. So Chelsea took a second to gather up all her courage, take a deep breath, and say:

“Hello, welcome to the International Anomaly Anonymous Registry and Support Center. My name is Chelsea Brawn. Who might you be?”


	3. Haunted House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz loved her brother, would always love her brother. She now knew not everyone felt the same way. Trigger warning for severe injury and angst.

Jazz had made a habit out of checking Danny's room when she woke up in the morning. 

Her eyes would roam over the baby blue walls and canopy bed. Noting all the little dings and scrapes hastily hidden under NASA stickers and star charts. She coughed when entering, as the dusty smell of abandonment momentarily choked her. There was no sleeping teenager in the room. 

Danny was often missing without forewarning, much more often than she would have liked. He always seemed cold and distant after those nights out, closing himself off to process whatever he had seen in his absence. Leaning away from touch, whether because of hidden injuries or withdrawal, he was immune to comfort. 

He barely ate or did anything on those days. Preferring just to sit and stare at a wall or a shadowy corner, unmoving and silent. She had always thought it would be best to give him space during those times, not to poke and prod at memories not ready to resurface. 

(If only she had been more attentive.)

Still, the worse check-ins were when she found him, twitching and moaning in a pool of blood or ectoplasm. Ectoplasm was a viscous substance, and in those times she would find it coating whatever surface Danny had collasped on, thick and stinking.

She had never been particularly interested in medicine before Junior year but she had been forced to acquire a certain level of skill. She was renowned as a fast learner and was (sickeningly) given ample opportunities to gain competence in medicinal practices. 

She will never forget the look of green swirled red coating her hands, the screams and pleas coming from the boy beneath her, the feeling of brushing her hand smooth bone while she desperately tryed to knit a person back together.

(She used to wish desperately for her parents during those times. Wished they would bust through the door and fix him, help her, or just offer support and assistance. They never did. She had resented them for that. Now she is glad it was just her, that they had never been there. She resented them for other reasons now.)

She knew she didn't catch every injury, wasn't able to help after every battle. She wondered how many times he had sat alone in the dark, waiting for his body to heal, waiting for a relief from pain, waiting for help, waiting for a friendly face, waiting-waiting-waiting-waiting. 

(Was that what he was doing now?) 

So when asked by curious adults or peers, she would now say that she had a bit of medical interest, as kind of a cruel joke only she could understand. 

The best mornings were when she discovered Danny curled within his covers, quietly snoring; or purring, if he was feeling a bit more ghostly. If she had the time, she would go over and sit beside him, and run her fingers through his soft bangs. Danny often had nightmares when he slept, but gentle pets always seemed to soothe him. If his teeth had sharpened into fangs during the night, it was not rare for Jazz to watch them release his bottom lip and shrink into their more blunt versions right before her eyes. 

Other times, she would throw a pillow to wake him up and go down stairs to make breakfast while he tiredly trudged around upstairs. They would run inventory to make sure he had his homework, ghost hunting supplies and a charger and phone in case of emergencies. He would often ask for a ride to school, especially if he was too tired to fly and she wasn't going to be the one to begrudge him some reprieve. 

(Still, she couldn't help but sometimes think that it was unfair to her that this was the role she was delegated to. Why didn't her parents... No. She didn't want them to do this. She could do it, what was a little extra gas in the long run?)

A lot of times though, he would fly himself. She never quite got used to all of her brother's inhuman quirks and qualities. Of course she still loved him, still loved that part of him. 

When she first discovered his ghostly secret, she had made lists, about what she loved about her brother, what hadn't changed, and new things she loved about him. 

This helped her to notice things like, the way his pupils would dialate like a cat's whenever he saw something that he liked, or how his laugh would chime like bells when in ghost form, or how his aquamarine eyes would sparkle neon green when he was feeling particularly mischevious. 

These lists had helped to ground her, to remind her that the charateristics that made her brother the Danny she knew and loved were continuously present. Looking back, she wonders if she processed his reveal too easily. If she was too quick to accept the egnigma of living death that was Danny's existence. 

Although, Tucker and Sam were always quick to accept. They were just as adaptive and willing to help Danny as she was. Of course, they tended to be more action-oriented than she was. They were always on the frontlines of any fight, while she was more adept at providing cover, handling the aftermath. 

(That was probably why they were out there now, gone, while she was still here, standing in the doorway of an empty room.)

Maybe, the problem wasn't them. Maybe, they had not been too quick to love, accept and assist. Maybe the problem was in the reaction of others. 

Of her parents.

As much as the memories of thinly-veiled pain and long nights trying to reseal wounds gained from clashes with the undead would haunt her, the memories of what took place only a few weeks prior were almost too much to bear. 

What her parents had done horrorfied her. It wasn't stubbornness or a misunderstanding that prompted what her parents had done. She now knew that there was a maliciousness in their actions, a quiet hate that she previously didn't pick up on. 

 

~~ One month earlier~~

 

It had happened unexpectedly. The week had previously been a good one, for both her Danny. It was mid-summer, and the hot weather had proved a pretty effective deterrent for most of the feisty ghosts. 

There were still a few regulars hanging about, Skulker, Jonny 13, Kitty, Technus, plus a few others, but the heat seemed to have a passifying effect on them. Jonny and Kitty seemed content to take quiet rides through the woods and Danny had long since made peace with the rebellious teens. Skulker and Technus still attacked as usual but the heat made them lazy and sloppy. It had a similar effect on Danny but not to detrimental extremes because of his dual nature. 

Basically, he'd had a relaxing week of minimal, easy fights and Jazz was content with the fact that he was not in so much danger all the time. He had been eating more and regularly sleeping; even agreeing to help their parents in the lab. 

It appeared as though they had gotten a slight reprieve from the constant calamity that consumed their lives and Jazz was milking it for all it was worth, just glad to finally see Danny happy again. 

Of course with their luck it could never last. Danny had told her that he was going to be helping their parents in the lab. They had a new device in the works and apparently its construction had required 3 hands. Danny seemed uncorned about a potential new weapon and had even told Jazz he was happy to assist in its construction, so he could better combat it if it was ever turned against him. This had satisfied her, for some reason. At some point in her life her brother building guns so he could better protect himself against them became logical. 

(Maybe, if she had been more vigilant, been less excepting of the horrors of their situation, she could have prevented what had happened. But she hadn't and it happened. Those kinds of thoughts were only speculation anyways, worthless in the long run.)

She had gone out to get some Chinese takeout, Danny's favorite, and had comtemplated making them all watch a movie as a family when she returned, as she had read that it was a good family building activity. 

Movies were the last thing on her mind as she returned. 

She could hear screams coming from all the way down the block. Her brother's screams. She dropped the food, it was no longer of ant importance, and scrambled towards the house. 

She rushed up the front steps, hands shaking as she tried to undo the lock on the door. It took her three tries to insert and turn the key successfully and she practically bulldozed the door when she heard the lock release. 

She took a moment to orient herself, looking for the source of the screams. There. The basement. That was... good. Her parents were still down there. I there was a ghost attack they would be able to help fight. Danny's secret was probably toast but she could deal with that. She had planned for this, they would still love him. She would make them understand that it was still Danny. She could. She had to.

Her thoughts were racing as she vaulted towards the basement door. She fingered her Lipstick Laser and she slammed open the door, readying herself for a fight. 

She couldn't prepare for what that lay before her. 

It wasn't a ghost fight. She would have preferred a ghost fight. Jazz had become thoroughly acquainted with the maliciousness of inhuman creatures and by could now deal with them in a detached professional way. 

(Almost like a real ghost hunter, in a cruelly ironic sort of way.) 

She had no idea how to deal with this. 

Danny was in ghost form strapped to an operated table. He was screaming and clawing at his restraints, pleas for mercy punctuating his pain filled cries. A closer look showed he singed puncture marks in his abdomen, probably from Maddie's staff. Viscous green ectoplasm oozed from the open wound.

Maddie and Jack hovered over him, their faces twisted unrecognizably in hate. They were screaming in his face, asking him what had he done with their son. Couldn't they see he was right there?! That was their son! That was Danny!

Jazz was frozen in disbelief. This... wasn't how this was supposed to go. They... weren't supposed to react like this. She has prepped for worse case scenarios but never anything like this. How... How could they do that to their own son!?

Jazz stood at the top of the stairs, frozen with shock. She couldn't even fathom the events transpiring, and had no idea how to react. She could hear rapid, shallow breathing. Was that her? How had everything gone so wrong? 

She locked panic filled eyes with her brother below and was shaken from her stupor. She screamed for them to stop and frantically vaulted down the stairs, nearly slipping and just barely catching herslf against the handrail in her haste. Her sudden appearance seemed to shock her parents, enough that she had a moment to find what she was looking for.

There. The release button.

She vaguely registered shouts of protests from her parents but by then it was too late. She scrambled over to the wall and slammed into the switch. The resulting click seemed thunderous within the chaos of the lab. 

Turning, she saw her brother give the room one last panic filled sweep before turning and vanishing into thin air. 

 

~~ Present Day~~

 

Danny still wasn't in his bedroom. He hadn't been there for weeks. Sam and Tucker, his loyal accomplices had left with him unexpectedly, they had left no notes and no clues where they could have gone. 

There had been a police investigation launched, of course. The police had talked to her, of course. She had told them that she had no idea.

She obviously DID have an idea. They had probably left to meet up with Ellie Phantom and Cujo, and probably dimension hopped to some other country or corner of the Ghost Zone to lay low. The police were still looking in Amity and the surrounding towns because none of them had fled in their cars. They wouldn't find them there. They didn't need cars when Danny could fly them hundreds of miles per hour.

She could have met up with them, if she had wanted to. She knew the meeting spot, the biggest willow tree in the town's graveyard. She had enough time to pack a few essentials, to meet them there. Instead, she was dealing with the police. 

The police had also talked to her parents. She didn't know what they had said but it was clear that the police remained unaware of Danny's half-life status. In the past she made have found this outcome positive, seeing it as proof that they were willing to protect him; would help keep his secret. Now she knew they were just covering their own backs.

After the so-called incident her parents had made an effort to communicate with her. They screamed and shouted afterwards, begging her to tell them what was going on. She hadn't-couldn't-wouldn't-shouldn't tell them anything. In fact she hadn't said a word to anyone other than the police in weeks. 

What could she say? She had no other friends besides Sam and Tucker, and contacting them was out of the question. If the police located their position it would make everything harder on them and Danny needed time. 

Moreover, how could she even think about talking to her parents anymore? What could she even say?

Eventually her parents had stopped trying to talk to her. She could tell they were planning something but she wouldn't let them hurt Danny again. She had to be here so she could stop them. Always the damage control.

She sighed, and pulled herself from her thoughts. He steeped out of Danny's room and closed the door with a soft click. Lingering a moment, she traced the doorway with her finger, then went downstairs. He wasn't there.

And Jazz was left behind.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks sm for reading! If you want me to continue any of these let me know in the comments below!


End file.
